A Vedran Creation Myth
by morningstar2
Summary: When Harper takes off without a word, the crew are left to put the pieces together. Harper angst. Set after Ouroboros.
1. Default Chapter

Someday I hope to buy a dusty oil lamp at a garage sale and fulfill some wishes. Until then, Andromeda does not belong to me. Harper does not belong to me. Heck, not even one little Perseid belongs to me. No profit is made.  
  
***  
A Vedran Creation Myth  
Harper shouldered his way through the midday crowd, clutching the citizen papers against his chest. He was sweating, he realized, even though he could see his breath. It had been too long since he'd been in this familiar danger- the kind where fighting would be suicide and the ability to look harmless kept you alive.  
No wonder the people of this planet were small and scrawny like him.  
Everything was grey- the heavy sky, the tired buildings, the filthy snow and the filthier humans. The whole scene around him was like a sun bleached photograph and felt about as real. Surreal, perhaps, but Harper never dreamt in black and white.  
He had done his homework and was decked in frayed and washed out clothes- a threadbare jacket and oversized pants completely devoid of color. They were clothes that would catch no one's eye on this planet- not a thief's, not a Nietzschean guard's, and not the eye of a worried captain trained for the loud colors of his usual apparel. There was an art to being inconspicuous, a talent that the young engineer possessed.  
Ahead the road split among the complexes of the 'human residential sector'. It had looked like the delta of a river on the map he'd been shown. And what had seemed to cross the road like an over-sized dam now came into view. Yet another checkpoint- Damn.  
The Nietzschean patrolman on duty was looked bored to tears, but seemed to find little slivers of enjoyment in harassing the human pedestrians. He grinned maliciously when Harper approached the checkpoint. Harper's stomach tightened- he had seen that grin on Tyr before, and it was often followed by the death of some poor bastard.  
"Hey, Kludge! Where are you of to in such a hurry?" The patrolman leaned back in his chair, his hand resting casually on his gauss gun, and looked expectantly at Harper.  
For a terrified nano-second, Harper thought the Nietzschean was waiting for his last words. Then he remembered the citizen documents clamped in his hand. Forcing himself to relax, he held them out silently.  
Harper tried his best not to squirm as the papers were scrutinized. Of course the guard couldn't possibly know the papers were fake. Using Andromeda's full spectrum of utilities (and an added few of his own) had made counterfeiting a cinch. Everything was there- from the planet's holographic insignia to the inlaid metal treads. Those things were a freakin' work of art and completely believable. He had even run them through the slipstream drive a few times to give them that well-worn feel. No, there was no way the guard could know. Stupid Uber probably just liked seeing him squirm. Too bad it was working.  
"It says here you're an engineer," the guard said suddenly. "I doubt that. If you ever gain a use in life, kludge, it will be as a participant in Nietzschean target practice."  
A thousand comebacks chased each other through Harper's mind. It was with monumental effort he stayed silent and meek. His papers were finally handed back to him. Just then, a grungy pack of human teenagers approached. They were laughing loudly and obviously drunk. Taking the distraction, Harper slipped quietly past the Uber and into the most-run down section of a run down-city on a planet whose sky he was beginning to hate.  
  
***  
  
"When I find him, I'm going to wring his neck for this!" Beka fumed. She was pacing across Command while Trance and Dylan sat on the raised steps of slipstream control. Rommie stood beside her captain as she watched Beka's compulsive zigzags. Slightly apart from the group, Tyr leaned against a wall, an expression of mild boredom on his face.  
"Shouldn't you be happy that Harper did not take the Maru this time?" Rommie ventured.  
"No! He should have taken the Maru!" At the shocked looks she received, Beka calmed enough to explain. "I got sick of everyone 'borrowing' the Maru, so I installed a remote tracking device. If he'd taken my ship, I'd be half way to shaking sense into that runt by now. Besides." Beka's face reddened a bit, "I worry. And the Maru has seat belts."  
"Beka, I don't like it either that Harper left without a word, but he's not a prisoner onboard Andromeda. Harper is a grown man. I'm sure he can take care of himself." Dylan said. Rommie, whose built-in sensors made her a walking lie detector, cast Dylan a sideways look.  
Trance spoke up. "Maybe we're doing this wrong." Four pairs of eyes turned to the intuitive alien, who gave a nervous smile. "We know Harper doesn't want to be found. He went to a lot of trouble to shield himself from Andromeda. He didn't take the Maru for a reason. We aren't missing any vessels, so he must have bought or built a ship, probably for this purpose. He was doing repairs all day yesterday, remember? He knew he was leaving and made sure we'd be okay without him for awhile. He did a lot of planning."  
Beka sat down next to Trance. "Alright, detective Gemini. But how does this help?" It came off more sarcastic than she had intended. She softened her tone. "We've combed his machine shop and his usual haunts and I even checked his room," Beka shuddered at the recent memory. "We found nothing strange. Well. stranger than usual, that is."  
"You forgot one place where he spends his time," Tyr said. It was the first he'd spoken since the meeting at Command had been called. He had been thinking the problem over carefully, though he feigned unconcern. "I believe the boy spends much time within the ship's programming."  
Rommie turned to her weapon's officer. "I've scanned my matrix. He entered to set up a shielding program, but that's all he did as far as I can tell."  
"Wait. Rommie, when Harper fixes you, what does he use for mechanical references?" Asked Beka.  
Rommie considered this. "He normally brings up files from my technical database, or searches through the Commonwealth library."  
Dylan brightened at this. "Rommie, can you find out which files were opened by Harper this week? Search your entire library database?"  
Rommie nodded and closed her eyes. "Listing all files accessed by Harper this past week." A list of file names appeared on the main vid screen. The list began to scroll as more and more file names were added. Soon the list was scrolling too fast to read. It was like watching movie credits on fast forward. "Harper accessed 69,069 files this past week."  
There was silence for a moment. Then Beka resumed her fuming. "When I find that boy.!" 


	2. 2

I know you waited months for the second chapter. I really am ashamed. But it turns out I had this hyper-thyroid thing and chronic mono. I didn't think it was possible to be both tired and super active at the same time, but that just goes to show : )  
***  
  
It had started to snow. His hands had gone numb, and he had dropped his papers (now wet and muddy) three times already. It had never gotten this cold back on Earth, although admittedly that was due to Earth's lack of an ozone. Still, the cold was refreshing. He would never get used to the controlled climates Beka loved so much.  
  
He had planned on walking throughout the night, but now he began looking for a place to hole-up in. Many of the buildings around the street were dark and hollow looking, though he knew this was due to lack of electricity, not inhabitants. He wasn't sure if a traveling spacer would be welcome, but when he dropped his papers a fourth time and had difficulty picking them up with frozen fingers, he decided he'd take his chances.  
  
The nearest building might have once housed nice apartments. It was well designed and hadn't bowed to time as easily as its neighbors. The windows were boarded up- it wouldn't be drafty. When Harper knocked on the door, the building became quieter, though he hadn't been aware of any distinct noises emanating from it before. He waited a moment and knocked again.  
  
"Can I come in? It's freakin' cold out here!" Still nothing. Fine. There were hundreds of places left to try. if he didn't die first 'cause he couldn't hold his weapon in numb hands.  
  
"Please?" he called, his voice loud enough to be heard inside, but not so loud as to draw every nocturnal sleazebag towards him. "I won't be any trouble! Never am. Just need a place for tonight and. and I have food."  
  
Again he waited. He hoped it would be enough, and was wondering what else he could offer when the door swung open. A woman peered out tentatively. She was old, with skin that hung loosely about her skull and dull, sunken eyes. She spoke, and her voice was distorted by a kaleidoscope of coughs and wheezes.  
  
"I'll let you in- but don't you try nothing. You just need to put your hands out -empty- like this. You still want to come in?"  
  
Harper nodded and slipped his papers into his coat pocket. No need for them here, he supposed. He raised his hands, palms up like the woman had shown him and winced. His hands were a blue-grey. Unbidden, a memory of Hone's tapered, energetic hands crossed his mind. Hands manipulating the delicate components of the tesseract machine. Hands gripping the rail, slipping and reaching desperately towards him. Tearing his gaze away from his hands, Harper followed the old woman inside.  
  
She led him through a naked hallway past a flight of stairs. Cold eyes watched him from above. "They didn't want me to let you in. Said it was some Uber trap. But I can't pass up a chance to feed Haley, no matter what." The woman pushed open a knobless door. "So come in. If you're a thief, you've struck out tonight."  
  
The room was dominated by a large green trash bin that radiated blessed heat. The light it cast upwards made the ceiling dance and flicker, but left the floor shrouded in shadow. Harper quickly knelt as close as he could with out touching the hot metal.  
  
The old woman made an impatient noise and Harper opened his backpack with a sigh of resignation. Careful to keep its contents from view, he removed a wrapped sandwich and a can of Sparky. He tossed both items to his hostess and she, glaring at the meager offerings, left the room.  
  
Harper lay down in the far corner of the dark room, warily watching the door. So, he wouldn't freeze tonight, that was good. Whether or not he'd be stabbed to death was another matter. The young engineer closed his eyes. "Yeah, well, tomorrow will be better," he mumbled to himself.  
*** 


	3. 3

Just a quick note: Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I recognized some names from fanfic I've read, and I'm honored that these talented writers took the time to comment. Switching topics. in this story, when Harper thinks about 'home', he means the Andromeda, not Earth. It seemed right to me. Now, on with the story.  
***  
  
"Well, I notified the governments of the commonwealth planets, and they've agreed to keep an eye out for Harper. I know it's not much, but if Harper passes through a customs or is arrested, then we'll find out." Dylan smiled apologetically at his First Officer.  
  
"Great. So now I should hope that Harper has criminal intent? Criminal intent against a commonwealth planet at that! Why would Harper run off in secret to one of our allies? That makes no sense!" Beka's voice had risen in volume.  
  
Dylan was calm in contrast. "Beka, we are doing the best we can. But the universe is not going to be put on hold. We still have a ship to run and a commonwealth to maintain. Now, we can do all that and look for our engineer, but I need you at 100 percent. Why don't you get some rest?"  
  
Beka wanted to be irritated at her captain, but for once he was making sense. She hadn't slept a wink since Harper had disappeared, and it showed. Her blond hair was disheveled and dark circles ringed her eyes. Instead of her usual exuberance she fidgeted with nervous energy. She kept telling herself that this shouldn't affect her so, but she knew why it did.  
  
Dammit, Harper. I nearly lost you forever! It had been hard enough to face the reality that Harper might die- would die- from the magog larvae. She couldn't imagine the Andromeda without the sparky engineer. Then he was miraculously cured, and it was easiest for Beka to pretend that the danger was never real, that his salvation was inevitable. And now you just leave us silently. Didn't he see that she needed her surrogate brother back for good? "Yeah, I'll get some sleep. First, though, I'll check on Trance."  
  
Rommie's holographic self appeared facing Dylan. She looked hesitant. "Err.Captain, I have some good news and some bad news."  
  
Dylan glanced at Beka and sighed. "Alright. Good news first."  
  
"I've discovered that Harper created a program to randomly open library files. He must have anticipated us looking for any research material he might have used."  
  
Beka nodded impatiently. "So, how is this good news?"  
  
Rommie smiled. "Because the program was written to open 69,063 files. Before initiating the program, Harper opened six files individually." Rommie closed her eyes and the six files appeared on the vid-screen behind Dylan's desk. As he peered at the list, the Captain's face lit up.  
  
"This should narrow our search."  
  
"Wait," Beka interrupted. "What's the bad news?"  
  
Rommie shifted uncomfortably. "It's Tyr. He just left in the Maru."  
  
***  
That night Morpheus carries him back to his home on Andromeda. He is standing on the Observation deck, surrounded by the large windows and leafy plants. Only the ancient light of distant stars touches him.  
  
Trance walks in, her skin nearly glowing a pale purple. She walks straight towards him and gently touches his shoulder. He smiles at her, inexplicably glad to see his friend here.  
  
When she leans over to whisper in his ear, her breath is cool against his neck. "I came to say goodbye."  
  
He shakes his head, still smiling. "What for? I'm not going anywhere."  
  
Her eyes are sad. They reflect a lifetime of turmoil. "I am."  
  
This catches his attention, and he suddenly remembers what happens next. What is yet to happen; what happens months ago. Now he becomes angry. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you give me a chance to choose? Did you ever think I might care about what happened?"  
  
There is a brief silence in which Trance closes her eyes. "I did tell you."  
  
That does it. "You think a stupid kiss was enough?! I miss you!" He pulls away sharply and turns to the window. He can see Earth in the distance and frowns slightly. "Not that it matters. I'll die anyway."  
  
Now the golden Trance is next to him, leaning over his shoulder to gaze at the blue and brown planet. "You won't find any answers there, Harper."  
  
He woke up to see large green eyes peering through the darkness at him. Before he could shake the cobwebs from his mind, his knife was in his hand. Harper blinked and suddenly relaxed. Standing in front of him was a tiny girl, maybe six years old. Although the weariness he saw in the old woman was missing, the similarity between the emerald eyes was remarkable.  
  
Harper sat up, ignoring the aches from sleeping on a hard floor. He moved slowly, careful not to frighten the little girl. "Hello," he hoped his voice was suitably gentle. "My name is Shay. Are you Haley?"  
  
She nodded. "Grandma says you come from far off. Are there Niets there too?"  
  
Harper smiled, remembering all the times Tyr threatened him in that non-threatening way. "Yeah, there are Nietzscheans where I come from, but they leave humans alone for the most part. Hey, have you ever had chocolate?" Haley's eyes grew large and she nodded, glancing greedily at his backpack.  
  
There were no scruffy children on the Andromeda. There were no little girls with big eyes and bony hands. It had been a long time since Harper had been affronted by a begging child. As he rummaged through his backpack, an unexpected anger rose in his chest. What did Dylan know about the universe? What good could he do if the commonwealth ignored the slave planets? Harper wished that Dylan had come to Earth instead of Tyr. Tyr already understood; Dylan hadn't seen Earth in over 300 years.  
  
Haley's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Is that an elf?"  
  
Harper followed the girl's gaze to his open backpack. Visible through the supplies he had crammed in was a picture of Trance showing off a plant with purple leaves that matched her skin perfectly. It had been taken by Rev a few months before joining the Andromeda. His eyes stung unexpectedly. Without answering, Harper handed Haley a chocolate bar and closed his backpack.  
  
Of course, freeing Earth wouldn't help him now. 


	4. 4

Author's Note: I'm sorry that my chapters are so short. I tend to think up stories in chunks, if that makes sense. Thanks for all the great reviews. I'm glad people still read Andromeda fic even though one of the best characters left. Of course, fanfiction is the best place to ignore that fact. May fans forever take non-profitable advantage of their favorite shows!  
  
Now, on with the plot.  
  
***  
  
Beka glared hard at Rommie, telling herself mentally not to kill the messenger. "Alright," Beka ground out. "The tracking device is set to a frequency picked up by a receiver in my room." Without further explanation, the blond captain spun on her heel and left. With a shrug towards his ship's AI, Dylan followed.  
  
In a matter of minutes, the three of them stood over the small receiver. Beka read out loud the co-ordinates listed on the screen. Rommie raised an eyebrow. "Beka, the co-ordinates you just listed are located on the Andromeda's bridge."  
  
Beka heaved a sigh. "Well, I suppose I'd be more surprised if Tyr actually forgot to remove the tracker before he stole my ship. Captain, permission to install lethal internal defenses on the Maru?"  
  
"Permission granted." Dylan replied distractedly. Now two of his crew were AWOL, and that wasn't even counting Rev Bem. But knowing Rev, he'd be in a lot less trouble than the other two.  
  
***  
  
Tyr strolled into the diner on the Klarmachen Drift, and took a moment to savor the atmosphere. A true Nietzschean station, the Klarmachen orbited a small Dragon-controlled planet. There were numerous species populating the tables and bar stools. Though composed and calm- unlike the rowdy human drifts he had visited- the room was full of Nietzschean activities: lying, cheating, illegal dealing, and gambling. Tyr grinned; it was the very anti- essence of the Andromeda.  
  
"Sidon! Over here!" A tall, black creature waved at Tyr, who promptly walked over to his table. The creature stood and shook hands with the Nietzschean.  
  
"Pallir, how have you been?" Tyr asked, looking the alien over. Pallir was of a species that lived on the edges of the Milky Way. He was around six feet tall and had oozing black skin that hardly looked solid enough to hold in organs. He was an arms expert and dealer, which Tyr thought a wise move on Pallir's part. Any being with such a laughably defenseless body needed heavy firepower.  
  
Tyr had first met him during his days as a mercenary, and had found him a useful source of news and rumors. Of course, Pallir didn't know Tyr's real identity or of his position on the mighty commonwealth ship. Things like that tended to make it rather difficult to gain the trust of those outside the law. To Pallir he was Sidon, a dishonored member of an Earth-based Dragon family, intent on finding a way of redeeming himself. Pallir liked to update him on Earth's politics, and together they discussed everything from weaponry to philosophy.  
  
Both men sat down. A young woman with dark curls came to take their orders. As always, the drinks were on Tyr. Pallir never told him anything until he had his favorite- a drink called a Dying Sun- in his hand. The Nietzschean didn't mind; predictability was something he liked in others.  
  
When both men were sipping on their choice of alcohol, Pallir began to study his Nietzschean companion, tilting his bald head to one side. "I was surprised to hear from you. It had been nearly a year; I figured you were dead."  
  
Tyr laughed, a deep, hearty sound that caused nearby patrons to glance at him. "Dead? No. You know I can't afford death until I have redeemed myself in the eyes of my family. Not until I have earned a wife. But a lot has happened on Earth this past year, I hear. Do you know much of the kludge rebellion?"  
  
"Ahh, I thought you might be interested in that. It originated in Boston, they say. Not to far from your birthplace?"  
  
Tyr nodded. "I heard it was crushed quickly, despite it's range."  
  
"The Drago Katsov would have everyone believe that. The fact is, the fighting lasted nearly two days, and for weeks afterwards there was an epidemic of human sabotaging and bombing." Pallir leaned back in his chair, remembering his latest business trip to the human home world. The streets had been covered in rubble, the buildings burnt parodies of actual living structures. In many parts of the city, human corpses lay rotting in the sun, the Nietzschean bodies already carefully laid to rest. Pallir wasn't in the habit of taking sides in other species' wars, but the aftermath of the uprising spoke of passion- hate, fear, despair- embedded deep in the human hearts. He almost felt sorry for the miserable slaves. Almost. "It wasn't until the Dragons began mass exterminations that control was restored."  
  
A haunted look passed over Tyr's features. "And what of Boston? What of the instigators?"  
  
At this, Pallir leaned forward intently. "Almost all of the human rebels in Boston were killed. A handful were captured and were to be publicly executed. But somehow, they escaped their prison. It's an embarrassment to the Dragons, and most of them will say that the humans were killed against orders by a guard- a man who lost his son in the attack. That doesn't explain why the bodies were never displayed."  
  
"Surely the kludges would be hunted down in no time?"  
  
"That's where the rumors get interesting." Pallir smiled and sipped his drink. "Next to the prison there is a docking bay for cargo ships. A few ships left during the night the prisoners were 'killed'. Nothing illegal, mind you. Each ship had the clearances to come and go. But I've heard that the bay briefly lost power, and that the security systems went down for a few minutes, too."  
  
"But the ships would all have destination records," Tyr pointed out. "Why not search other planets?"  
  
"Because, Sidon, if the Dragons launched a large-scale search, they would have to admit they lost something. Not to be disrespectful of your people, but the Dragons' pride seems to be a hindrance sometimes. Besides that, some of the destination planets weren't completely Dragon controlled."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"You seem rather interested in this matter. May I ask why?"  
  
Tyr closed his eyes, as if considering an answer. "Men will go to extremes for the sake of family."  
  
Pallir gave a knowing look. "Ahh. If you are hoping to impress your people with the catch of a criminal, I can give you some additional information. You know I always hope you will find the means to rejoin your family, my friend." 


End file.
